


Obedience

by AirgiodSLV



Series: 28 Lotrips AUs Challenge [20]
Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-09
Updated: 2006-05-09
Packaged: 2019-07-20 12:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16137470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirgiodSLV/pseuds/AirgiodSLV
Summary: He knelt shivering, aware that he was prostrate, in a fashion, and that this would probably be considered acceptable for the moment. The tiles were cold beneath his bare hands and knees, and the shift he’d been covered with was no more than courtesy modesty. To keep other men from looking at what now belonged to the Sultan, he thought bitterly, and curled a little tighter in on himself. The metal slave cuffs were hard against his wrists, a constant reminder of his current position.





	Obedience

**Author's Note:**

> AU #27, for [](https://casey28.livejournal.com/profile)[casey28](https://casey28.livejournal.com/)
> 
> Warnings: Slave AU, with accompanying serious consent issues.

Elijah’s arms wrenched as he dug in his heels, fighting against the holds of the guards. They looked impatient, but their obvious desire to deliver him undamaged and intact to their master was proving a point in his favour, because he had no compunctions about leaving marks on them.

Sadly, two burly men-at-arms easily outweighed a skinny boy, and no matter how he struggled Elijah found himself being pulled ever closer to the carved doors at the end of the hall.

By the time the guards had dragged him all the way to the doors, they were being considerably less gentle, and Elijah was exhausted from fighting them. When they each let go of him with one hand to open the great doors, Elijah saw his chance and twisted, jamming his bare foot into the knee of the guard on his right, and slamming his elbow up into the face of the other.

They weren’t palace guards for nothing, though, and after a great deal of cursing he was subdued again, and finally slung unceremoniously through the doors and into the Sultan’s private chambers. His knees cracked hard against the unforgiving tile floor, and he caught himself with his hands just in time to prevent his face from connecting as well. Behind him, the doors slammed shut with a finality that took the wind completely out of his sails.

He knelt shivering, aware that he was prostrate, in a fashion, and that this would probably be considered acceptable for the moment. The tiles were cold beneath his bare hands and knees, and the shift he’d been covered with was no more than courtesy modesty. To keep other men from looking at what now belonged to the Sultan, he thought bitterly, and curled a little tighter in on himself. The metal slave cuffs were hard against his wrists, a constant reminder of his current position.

The sound of metal ringing against stone made him look up before he’d meant to, startled, and he got his first real look at the Sultan.

He was fair-haired, in good shape, and his expression was not as cold as Elijah had feared, but not kind either, neutral and possibly slightly amused at Elijah’s unorthodox arrival in his chambers. Elijah suspected the other harem – he choked on thinking the word – slaves entered with a great deal more grace.

“Elijah.” The Sultan’s voice wasn’t cold either, but firm, used to command. He paused, and then when Elijah didn’t respond, continued. “That is your name, is it not?”

Elijah tilted his chin up mutely, not really meaning it as a show of defiance, but utterly unable to control his tongue. His throat was dry, and his head still clamoured in panic at his current situation.

The Sultan waited a moment more, and then walked down to where Elijah knelt on the floor, hands on his hips as he examined Elijah’s face like a man buying a horse. “Your father got a good price for you,” he commented mildly. “I trust you’ve come to terms with your new station.”

“He’s not my father,” Elijah said without thinking, and then flushed as he saw the dispassionate look on the Sultan’s face. He startled when his chin was grasped, but the Sultan only tilted his head further back, studying his features.

“What do you know?” the Sultan asked. Elijah blinked, confused, and tried to extricate himself without being obvious about it. The Sultan’s grip tightened impatiently. “I know you’re a virgin, or you would never have been offered to me. But do you know anything else? Anything at all?”

Elijah’s confusion started to edge into panic, and he couldn’t make his tongue stammer out any acceptable apologies. His hands tried to curl into fists and he almost lost his balance, a position not helped when the hand grasping his chin abruptly let go and he nearly pitched forward onto the cold tiles.

The Sultan moved around him, and Elijah squeezed his eyes closed tight, willing his racing heart back under control. Behind him he heard the Sultan’s clear, commanding voice, speaking to someone else beyond the great doors. “Bring me Dominic.”

* * *

Dominic was surprised at the summons, but left the harem immediately and followed the guard to the carved doors of the Sultan’s chambers, entering with a low bow of supplication for his master. When he raised his eyes, however, he was even more surprised to see someone else there, a dark-haired boy crouching on the floor at David’s feet.

“My lord?” Dominic inquired smoothly, hands clasped behind his back in the posture of obedience. “How may I please you?”

David turned and walked to his armchair on the small dias, pouring himself a glass of wine without a glance back. “This is Elijah. He’s new, he knows nothing.” Dominic straightened a little, understanding now. “Teach him.”

“Yes, my lord,” Dominic murmured, lowering his eyes briefly in submission. The gesture was lost on David, who was helping himself to the bowl of grapes and peeled almonds on the marble side table. The boy Elijah, however, had done an abrupt turn and was now cowering on the tiled floor in complete terror, his gaze darting between them as if uncertain of whom to fear more.

Dominic walked to him and knelt, putting them on the same level. Up close, the boy was beautiful; huge eyes framed with smeared kohl and shining bright with fear, lips parted and skin milk-white. Dominic held out his hands, palms up, and offered a quiet, calm greeting. “Peace. I’m Dominic.”

Elijah’s eyes darted to his hands, and caught on his wrists. “You’re a slave,” he said softly, and Dominic nodded, leaving his palms open and in plain sight.

“I serve in the harem, the same as you.” He ached to say it, because he remembered too well when this had been him kneeling here, shaking and frantic, totally blind as to what might happen next. It was a rare glimpse he had now of someone this innocent, and he knew it wouldn’t last long; in the harem you couldn’t live unless you learned how to survive. Currying favour, poisoning rivals, watching your back for a knife…there was none of that in Elijah’s eyes. Only fear, and a tiny bit of hope.

Dominic set himself to working on that hope, coaxing it out. If Elijah could trust him, it would make what was to come next much easier on both of them. He was aware, too, that if he didn’t do his job well, it would be his skin that felt the lash after David had pleased himself with Elijah.

“I won’t hurt you,” Dominic promised, and reached a little further this time, brushing Elijah’s fingertips with his. Elijah looked wary, but there was no flinch, and the next time he allowed Dominic to capture his hands, cradling them loosely in his own. He stroked Elijah’s hands with his thumbs, slow circles to relax and soothe.

“Do you know how to kiss?” he asked, and Elijah blushed, palms curling slightly around Dominic’s fingers as he shook his head. “That’s where we’ll start, then,” Dominic told him, and Elijah pulled back a fraction, almost unthinking, putting more distance between them.

Dominic shook his head, smiling a little, still stroking Elijah’s hands and tugging gently, coaxing him back. “You’ll like it. Kissing is nice, it’s easy. Just close your eyes.” He leaned in when Elijah didn’t comply, kissing Elijah’s eyelids shut with his lips. They trembled, like Elijah wanted to open them again but was afraid of what would happen to him if he did. Dominic kissed them again, and then pressed his lips to Elijah’s cheeks, his nose, his forehead. “See, that’s all,” he whispered, and felt Elijah relax a little, exhaling. Then he pressed his lips to Elijah’s.

He felt Elijah tense all over, and the mouth beneath his was shut tight, unmoving, but he didn’t let that stop him. He closed his own eyes and kissed Elijah; small, soft kisses, just their lips together. He sucked Elijah’s lower lip gently between his and felt a flicker of response; no more, but enough to give him hope.

He waited until Elijah was comfortable with the light kisses before parting his lips and touching his tongue to the seam of Elijah’s mouth, and felt the tension return, although lessened. “This is kissing too,” he promised in a soothing murmur against Elijah’s mouth, licking his lips. “This is how the Sultan will kiss you.”

He drew Elijah a little closer, still holding his hands, and licked his lips until they parted, until Dominic could slip his tongue inside Elijah’s mouth to tease and tangle with Elijah’s own. Elijah hesitated, swayed, and then returned the kiss awkwardly, trying to mimic Dominic’s movements. Dominic encouraged him with his mouth, tongue curling and lips pressing, and then let go of one of Elijah’s hands to cup his jaw, tilting their mouths together more perfectly.

Elijah sighed into his mouth, and Dominic drew back, licking his own lips and pressing a gentle kiss against Elijah’s mouth. “This is how the Sultan will kiss you,” he repeated, and took Elijah’s mouth again.

This time there was more of a struggle, because Dominic’s mouth was less forgiving, and Elijah was still skittish, but Dominic took control and Elijah had nowhere to go. He plundered Elijah’s mouth with his tongue, kissing him hard the way David did, taking Elijah’s breath until his hands were knotted in Dominic’s shift and pulling desperately, pleading. Then he backed off, breathing hard, and saw Elijah’s eyes opened wide again, slightly glazed.

It was hard for a moment to remember where they were and what they were doing, but Dominic glanced to the side and saw David sprawled in his armchair, watching them impassively, his hand toying with the stem of his goblet. Dominic exhaled and focused his attention, resting his hands on Elijah’s waist to steady them both.

“Sometimes he will want to undress you,” Dominic told him, stroking the fabric beneath his fingerpads, watching Elijah for any flicker of panic. “And sometimes he will want you to do it yourself. Always be graceful, never rush. But don’t keep him waiting. Everything is a smooth motion, like this.” He grasped the hem of his own shift and drew it over his head, folding it as he lowered his arms and laying it down beside them. He saw Elijah’s eyes drop, taking in the sight of his nakedness before darting away.

“Now you,” Dominic murmured, and Elijah inhaled as if to protest, but Dominic was already guiding his hands, not giving him a chance to fight, and together they drew the short garment over Elijah’s head and off.

Elijah’s hands tried to cover himself, but Dominic kept hold of them, and kissed Elijah’s eyelids again until he calmed. He stole glances while Elijah was distracted with kisses, and saw that Elijah was no more aroused than he was, but still a pleasing shape, and no longer flinching away. Dominic stroked his waist until Elijah grew used to the caresses, and then gradually let his hands skim lower, over Elijah’s sharp hipbones and the smooth muscles of his thighs. They trembled a little under his fingers, but Elijah was quiescent, waiting.

“Have you ever been touched here?” Dominic asked, and Elijah shook his head, quick and jerky. Dominic kissed him again and pulled him closer, urging Elijah forward until their stomachs brushed, and he felt Elijah tremble when their thighs bumped, the tingle between his own legs when they touched.

“There are two ways,” Dominic told him, trying to keep up the soft touches and kisses as he spoke, like gentling a wild animal. “You can touch with your hand, and caress. Or you can kiss, with your mouth.”

Elijah tried to pull back, eyes wide, but Dominic was ready for that, and his hands were steady at the small of Elijah’s back, holding him in place. “It feels good,” he promised, one arm sliding up Elijah’s back to embrace him while the other moved lower, over Elijah’s hip. “Just relax, let me touch you.”

* * *

Elijah shuddered when Dominic took him in hand, his fingers closing warm and strong around the part of himself that no one else had ever touched. Part of him still wanted to pull away, but he fought the urge, closing his eyes instead and resting his head against Dominic’s shoulder while Dominic’s hand stroked and squeezed him, slowly arousing him in spite of his hesitance.

“Lay back,” Dominic murmured in his ear, and Elijah balked again, his mind spinning into visions of being trapped on his back, pinned and helpless, crushed under the weight of another man. But Dominic’s hands soothed him, stroking his sides again until he relaxed, and Dominic guided him down onto the floor, spreading out their shifts so that there was something between the cold tiles and Elijah’s bare skin.

“I’m going to kiss you again,” Dominic said, and Elijah closed his eyes expectantly, but the warmth of Dominic’s mouth didn’t come, and instead he felt a tickle between his legs and realized it was the brush of Dominic’s lips, and the thought sent heat into his cheeks and neck, making him squeeze his eyes shut tighter.

Dominic’s hands were warm and gentle against his thighs, stroking his skin while Dominic’s lips pressed again and again, covering him with kisses. Elijah thought about the kindness in Dominic’s face, the way his voice rumbled softly and not harsh when Elijah panicked, and warmth settled in his belly, spreading through the rest of him in slow waves.

He felt wet heat then, Dominic’s mouth open against him, engulfing him slowly, and his thighs tensed, ready for flight while the rest of him simply basked in the exquisite sensation.

Dominic’s mouth lifted, and Elijah heard him whisper, “More kisses,” before it returned again, taking Elijah in, curling his tongue the way he had in Elijah’s mouth, shooting spangles of pleasure all the way up Elijah’s spine so that he shivered.

“And this is how you will please the Sultan,” Dominic told him, and suddenly there was slick heat and suction, too strong, pulling at him as if to tear him apart. Elijah struggled, trying to pull away, but Dominic’s hands clamped like iron bands on his hips, holding him down, and Elijah couldn’t claw them away. He screamed, begging for mercy, and it was granted, a brief second of cold air while Dominic breathed hard and repeated, “This is how it pleases the Sultan,” and then the torture began again.

“Please,” he begged, and finally Dominic pulled away, leaving Elijah slumped on the floor, panting for breath and trembling all over, dizzied. He opened his eyes and saw the Sultan, eyes on him, holding his gaze for a long moment before popping a sugared date into his mouth and chewing. Elijah closed his eyes and breathed, brought back to himself by Dominic’s hands drawing him up off the floor.

“One more thing,” Dominic murmured, and rested Elijah against his chest like a child, cradling him with one arm. He took the lid from a wooden jar with his other hand, and Elijah wondered dazedly where it had come from while Dominic dipped his fingers in, and they came out gleaming with oil.

His fingers pressed behind Elijah, into the cleft between his cheeks, and Elijah went completely still, eyes wide. “Just relax,” Dominic murmured, kissing his eyelids again, but this time Elijah wasn’t soothed, his entire body tense and wary. “Relax,” Dominic whispered again, and his fingers pressed up, _inside_ , in spite of Elijah’s brief, weak struggling to get away. It didn’t hurt, as Elijah had expected, but it did feel uncomfortable, and strange when Dominic stroked him there, his fingers moving in and out, slippery with oil.

His mind made the connection a few seconds later, feeling the hot press of Dominic’s length against his stomach and his fingers inside Elijah’s body. He stiffened, and Dominic kissed his neck, still stroking gently. “Will it hurt?” he whispered, squeezing his eyes closed because he already knew, how could it not?

“Only if you fight,” Dominic promised, drawing his fingers out and dipping them into the oil again before returning, and this time the pressure was thicker, more fingers pushing up inside him. “If you relax, it will only stretch a little.”

“I don’t want it,” Elijah whispered, but it was a hopeless plea, made to someone who didn’t have the power to stop it. Dominic didn’t answer him with words, but offered Elijah another kiss, his lips gentle and reassuring.

“Is he ready?” another voice asked suddenly, and Elijah tightened, wanting to flee but knowing there was nowhere to go, held securely in Dominic’s arms with the Sultan standing over them, waiting.

He closed his eyes and cursed fate when he felt Dominic’s fingers slide out and heard him answer, “Yes.”

* * *

Elijah was still jittery, but he was as ready as he ever would be, his first time. David’s eyes roamed over him and he gestured for Dominic to continue, watching them together. Dominic concentrated on kissing Elijah, trying to relax him again, bathing his lips with tiny, coaxing licks. David reached down and Dominic knew what he was doing when Elijah tensed, arching forward into him with a tiny whimper, his fingers curling around Dominic’s ribs.

“Good enough,” David proclaimed, and walked to the royal bed, shedding his robe as he walked. His body was muscled like a panther’s, and he stretched out onto the bed with a predatory gleam and beckoned for Elijah to join him.

Elijah’s eyes were on Dominic, glazed now with fear again as well as arousal. “What if I displease him?” he whispered, and Dominic kissed him impulsively, cradling his jaw in the palm of one hand.

“You could never displease him,” he promised, and pushed Elijah gently away, settling himself into a posture of obeisance in case David wanted him later. Elijah’s gaze stayed on him, sad and longing, and then he picked himself up from the floor and walked slowly towards the bed.

Dominic concentrated on his breathing, trying to settle into a meditative state, but his eyes wouldn’t leave the bed, and he saw the scene unfold in front of him as if in slow motion, impotent to stop it. It was like when he had been brought here for the first time, after another slave – gone now, killed by a rival – had prepared him in the same way, opened him up for the Sultan’s pleasure.

David guided Elijah’s head between his legs and Dominic saw him choke a little, trying to replicate what Dominic had done to him while having another man in his mouth for the first time. David stroked Elijah’s head like he was a favourite cat, gripping his hair and pulling when Elijah made a mistake. Dominic saw Elijah’s eyes shimmer, watering, and realized with a shock that they were fixed on him, the entire time he was pleasing David.

When David turned Elijah over and pushed into him, Elijah made a soft sound, and Dominic wished fiercely that it was for him, pretended it was, that he was the one inside Elijah now, giving him only pleasure. He knew it hurt by the way Elijah’s eyes tightened, and David wasn’t rough, but he wasn’t gentle, either, working his hips against Elijah with deep, steady thrusts.

Elijah’s lips parted, and from his position kneeling on the bed they could see each other, locking eyes while David rocked his hips harder into Elijah and made him cry out softly. Dominic remembered his first time, the burning stretch and the pain and the blood he’d found afterwards, too ashamed to speak of it to anyone, and he hoped that Elijah didn’t withdraw like that, didn’t disappear into the harem and emerge a hardened, cruel creature.

Dominic didn’t think he could bear it if that happened, and wondered if that was why he’d never seen Orlando again, after that first time together, after David had taken him twice and left him exhausted, when Dominic had woken and found Orlando simply gone. He had never wanted to remember that day, and had never gone to seek Orlando out. Now he was gone, killed, and Dominic would never see him again. He wondered if Elijah would react the same way, hide his shame by hiding his face, and hoped with a chest-deep ache that he would not.

David came with a deeply satisfied groan and Dominic saw Elijah bite his lip, but he didn’t drop his eyes. Elijah finally had to break his gaze when David turned him and kissed him, and Dominic watched Elijah’s jaw stretch wide to accept David’s invading tongue. Elijah made a soft sound in his throat, a whimpering moan, and Dominic saw David’s hand moving between Elijah’s legs, stroking him lightly as they kissed.

Dominic lowered his eyes to the tiled floor, not wanting to watch more; but not before he caught the quick flash of dazzling blue as Elijah opened his eyes, and looked directly at him.


End file.
